


Demons//Lullaby

by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney



Series: Extra Doses [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, broganes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney/pseuds/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney
Summary: Extra Dose for Lovesick-Keith's past comes catching up and flips his world upside down as the people who love him try to keep him in the present
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Extra Doses [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781158
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Demons//Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dealing with trauma so I made Keith deal with trauma. If you've read Placebo Effect, that content is alluded to, but not as specifically or explicitly. Read at your own discretion and if you think other things should be tagged let me know in the comments NICELY please. 
> 
> I didn't get a chance to proofread but I've been meaning to get some LS content out so bear with me <3
> 
> Happy Reading,  
> Phoenix

_ Late January 2020 _

The arms around his torso tightened the more he tried to stand. 

“Don’t go,” Lance grumbled, muffled by pillows. His body curled around Keith’s waist, anchoring him further. 

“My love, I already missed my two shifts last week when I got sick. And you need to go to your job too.” 

“Then I won’t go either.” Lance sat up and draped himself across Keith’s back. He pressed insistent, lazy kisses along the side of his face, making Keith very tempted to stay if it meant being back under warm covers and receiving more of these kisses. “We can stay and cuddle and make cookies and hot chocolate and-”

Keith laughed as he covered Lance’s mouth. “I love you.” 

“Te amo,” Lance whispered sleepily. He kissed Keith’s shoulder and unhooked his arms. “Was that your gentle way of leaving me?” 

“Well don’t put it like that,” Keith said with a pout. He stood and turned to look at him. “Leave Kosmo back at my place, okay?” He grabbed Lance by the chin and squeezed his cheeks together to pull him closer. “I hate how cute you look with your bed head.” 

Lance scrunched his face, making Keith smile as he kissed him once more before pulling away. 

He went to the bathroom to wash up and change before slipping out quietly seeing as Lance had fallen back asleep. The bookstore was closer than the dance studio, which helped on days when Lance was adamant about keeping him in bed a few minutes longer. 

Really, it wasn’t like Keith could complain. It made him feel special, even if he occasionally had to rush to clock in on time. 

The smell of old and new books always seemed stronger in the morning, always felt warmer during the cold days. There was a stack of misplaced books from the night before by the register, which Keith grabbed and started putting back in place. He’d gotten a pretty good grasp of the layout of the store, finding his way around the shelves easily. 

“Hey Keith,” his boss said from the help desk. She followed him with her eyes as he moved. “You seem chipper this cold morning.” 

“Lots of sleep last night.” 

“Uh huh,” she said with a smirk. Keith ignored it and focused on the shelves. “Did you already bring back the books you checked out?” 

“Yep, I have them at the front desk. I was gonna check them in after I shelved these.”

His boss nodded and smiled before she turned her attention to the computer in front of her. 

For the better part of his shift, it was a slow day. Since it was a weekday, not many people came in during the early hours. He hummed along to the music playing over the speakers was quick to help stock the donated books that one of the managers had put in a box. He was passing the time folding old flyers per the instructions of an origami book when he noticed the same person pacing the same area for about the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. 

He saved the page with his half-made lily and walked over, plastering his customer-service smile on his face. 

“Is there something I can help you find?” Keith asked. The man looked lost, wandering the shelves like he wasn’t really looking at them. 

His eyes shifted over to him as he smiled slightly. “Just looking.” 

“Okay, well anyone with a badge can help you out if you need it,” Keith said, pointing to his own tag. Then he lifted the box of books to shelve and kept walking. 

A few minutes into trying to flatten the wrong crease on his origami lily, one of his coworkers went up to him. “D’you meet Tall Dark and Handsome?” she asked. “Nikki says he’s been a frequent customer lately, but he never buys anything.” 

“Then why’s he here?” Keith asked. 

“No idea,” she answered. “But I’m not complaining. He’s yummy. I’m not a facial hair kind of girl but did you see his beard? And his  _ tattoos,  _ my God.” Keith laughed as she peeked around a bookshelf. “If he needs anything, send him my way, okay?” 

“Will do. Now get to work, Erica.” She made a face then returned to the help desk, eyes following Tall Dark and Handsome as she walked. Keith had to admit that at least from his side profile, he was handsome. There was something about his face that reminded Keith of someone from a movie. 

He stood by the register, passing time by discreetly scrolling through his phone. Lance had sent him a selfie on his lunch break, and Alexa kept sending him Snapchats of Kosmo doing things around the house. Shiro only told him to get to work when Keith asked what he was up to. 

Every now and then, Keith would scan the area to be sure his boss wouldn’t catch him on his phone, and to be sure he greeted any new customers. Each time he did, he noticed Tall Dark and Handsome strolling through the aisles, walking slowly enough that he looked like he was looking for something but too fast to actually look at the titles on the spines. As handsome as he was, it was starting to freak Keith out a bit.

“Keith, can you come over to the help desk,” Nikki said, ringing him over the intercom. Keith double checked that the register was closed and walked over to the back of the store. Nikki let a box slam down on the counter. “New set of donations. Already logged and separated. Could you shelve them?” 

“Do I have a choice?” he asked with a smile as he took the box. 

Nikki laughed humorlessly. “Funny guy.” 

Keith grinned and took the box to the rolling cart so he wouldn’t have to lug the box around. He pushed the cart to the closest section, shelving the books with ease. He only had two more hours of his shift to go, and he could probably busy himself with the cart for most of that if he played it smart. It was easy, especially since customers always pulled books out and placed them elsewhere anyway, increasing the amount of books Keith had to put up. 

“Keith?” 

The voice made Keith jump, dropping the book to the floor. “Oh, Jesus! Hi, yeah, can I help you?” Keith asked, leaning down to grab the book as he resisted the urge to snap at Tall Dark and Creepy. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with a soft laugh. Keith frowned as he put up the book, trying desperately to place that voice and why it made him tense. “I was wondering if maybe you had time after your shift to get a coffee or something.” 

Oh, that’s what it was. He sighed and gave the guy a fake smile, not really bothering to look at him. “I have a boyfriend, so no thanks. Sorry.” He pushed the cart to go to another section, even though he wasn’t done there. “And just a tip- don’t ask people out at their job.” 

As he turned away, the guy laughed and followed. “Still got a sharp tongue, huh?” 

That comment made the hair on the back of his neck stand. He turned around and narrowed his eyes, taking in the stranger’s face from the front. Something cold spread through his chest, but he couldn’t quite place it. Something in the eyes…. 

“Do I know you?” 

A wolfish grin spread on his face. “You really don’t recognize me, angel?” The nickname caused an immediate reaction in Keith. His stomach flipped, giving him the urge to puke right there. His entire body went cold, but he’d broken into a sweat, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. “I know we’ve changed, but I could never forget those eyes,” he said, stepping closer to Keith. 

The floor beneath him shifted, his vision blurred. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart, erratic and loud, fuzzing out the music in the store, slurring his words. 

“Get away from me,” Keith spat out, stumbling back. 

A tattooed hand reached out, grazing Keith’s arm, but he snatched away frantically.. “Keith-” 

“Stay the fuck away from me!” Keith shouted. His voice was unrecognizable to his own ears. Panicked and out of his control. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying, but the words left his mouth in an endless stream of screams. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me, get the hell away from me, you sick piece of shit before I bash your fucking face in!” 

Hands grabbed at him, and he frantically shoved them away, falling to the floor in his haste. 

He heard his name, he heard voices, he could tell people were moving around him, but he couldn’t take any of it in. He could only shout for everyone to stay away from him as he retreated against a bookshelf. He couldn’t slow his breaths down, and maybe his vision went black for a second, but he couldn’t be sure. All he was sure about was that familiar dark eyes and a chilling wolfish smile kept flashing in his head, and the name  _ angel  _ kept bouncing against his skull, unleashing memories he hadn’t realized he’d locked away. 

He thought he’d recalled the worst of it. He thought he’d made his peace with that past. 

But the frantic tears and the way he cowered in the corner of a bookstore while his boss and coworkers stayed a safe distance away proved to him that he was far from it.

Memories of that same low voice whispering ‘angel’ in his ear over his shoulder just before shoving him down onto the nearest surface echoed in his head. He recalled his own sharp tongue resulting in a backhand that toppled him to the floor countless times until he’d learned it was easier to get away if he stayed down, but he also recalled the times when he’d get angry and fight back, even if it meant more bruises. Those had always lived in his head, locked away in the back where he could ignore them, roll his eyes at his younger self. 

“Okay, someone call his emergency contact, close the doors and make sure no one else comes in,” he heard Nikki shout. “Keith, can you hear me?” 

“Don’t touch me-”

“Okay. Okay, I’m not touching you. Can you take my hands? Let’s get you off the floor.” 

“Where is he? Where is he, where did he go? Is he by my car? He’s gonna wait to get me alone-”

“He won’t. We’re not leaving you alone. Okay, we’re gonna call your emergency contact to get you. Is that your brother or your boyfriend?” 

“No. No, no, no. Not them. I- My roommate. Alexa-” Keith moved to grab his phone, wincing as his nails let up from their grip. He handed the phone over, scowling at the way his hand shook. Nikki took it carefully, making sure not to touch him. 

While she answered, his other coworkers came back. Erica sat near him, holding out a water bottle, but Keith could bring himself to take it. “Keith, what did he say to you? What did he do?” 

He couldn’t answer out loud, but his response came with his panicked breaths, increasing into hyperventilation again. “Erica, leave it alone,” another coworker said. He looked at Keith worriedly. “Can we do anything?” 

Keith shook his head, the movement jittery and stiff. 

“Your roommate’s on her way. Come on, we can wait at the help desk.” His coworkers stood by anxiously, but didn’t move to touch him. 

Keith felt like an idiot. He felt embarrassed. He felt dazed. He kept thinking he saw someone moving in the corner of his eyes.

There were more now. More flashes unlocked by his proximity, by his voice, by that stupid petname. A time when a hand wrapped around his neck and pressed him against a wall, those eyes towering over Keith with a snarl, reminding him that he had nobody else in the world. Keith had been certain he’d gone too far. He’d been certain he’d pass out and be left there, but somehow he got the strength to kick out and the hand around his neck had let go. He’d gotten shoved back against the wall hard enough to hit his head and get dizzy, but it was better than the loss of breath. 

He recalled countless times in the backseat of a pickup, getting pushed past his limits because Keith made him lose control, because he was just too good, his precious angel, and whatever happened in the end was just his own fault because Keith was just so good at making  _ him  _ reckless. 

Suddenly, he felt small. He felt like he was that same freshman, slowly losing his own identity until everything about him revolved around someone who claimed to love him only to control him. He didn’t want anyone looking at him. He wanted to hide. He wanted to scrape his skin off, burn it so the memory of those hands could disappear for good. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d found his way to the corner behind the front desk or how long he’d been sitting there, staring at the stained carpeting before he heard his name again. 

Despite the familiarity of the voice, he cringed and curled into himself. 

“What the hell happened to him?” Alexa snapped. 

His manager started talking, but Keith covered his ears and pressed his hands harshly to his head as he began to rock back and forth. 

Eventually, he felt something nudge his shoe, making him open his eyes. Another foot was near him, and he let his eyes drift up to see Alexa seated in front of him. “Wanna go home?” she asked. 

“He might still be out there.” 

Alexa’s eyebrows furrowed together, but she shook her head. “If anyone tries to come near you, I’ll personally kick their ass. And I’ll make sure we aren’t followed.” 

“My car-”

“Roland’s with me. He can drive your car back to our place.”

“Roland?” Keith turned his head and saw Roland watching them a few feet away, eyes wide with worry. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t tell him anything, he was just with me when your boss called. Come on.” 

Slowly, Keith pulled himself up. He kept his head down as he followed Alexa out of the bookstore and into her car. He couldn’t help but search the parking lot frantically, wondering if he was being watched. Alexa asked for his keys through the window and handed them to Roland. 

The two of them spoke for a little bit before the manager stepped out and said something to Alexa. Keith sunk lower into the seat, curling up as more memories started to flash through his brain. He felt like his body was covered in mud, like everyone could see it. The reality of what he’d lived through, all those things Shiro had tried so hard to protect him from, demanded to be acknowledged, like Keith owed it to his past after shoving it away for so many years. 

But the words remained vague as they looped around the memories- Keith couldn’t bring himself to give it a name. He could barely remember to breathe and stop himself from falling apart in the passenger seat.

Finally, Alexa got into the car and started driving. She didn’t ask any questions, and Keith was grateful for it. 

When they got home, Alexa waited outside to get the keys back from Roland, but Keith dashed inside. He went straight for the bathroom, filling the tub with water that was just over the level of heat he could handle. As it filled, he looked at himself in the mirror, watching his reflection blur as the steam fogged the glass. For a moment, it was almost like the mirror itself was reverting him to that little 15 year old who didn’t know better. The blurry image looking back at him was that child who had endured it all. 

The violence, the manipulation, the fear, the pain. All because he thought he knew how the world worked. All because he didn’t want to be alone. 

_ Dirty. Dirty. Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty.  _

Hot tears streamed down Keith’s face as he yanked off his clothes frantically. 

_ Used. Used. Used and dirty and broken and empty. _

He winced as he placed one foot in the steaming water, followed by the next. He lowered himself gradually, finding solace in the heat. He imagined the scalding water purifying him, burning away every trace. But the flashes of memories stayed in his head, and no matter how much Keith tried, the phantom touches continued to pierce his skin. 

Shoving the side of his hand into his mouth, Keith bit down on the meat of his palm and let out a frustrated scream that left his throat itchy and sore. He screamed again, his entire body shaking with the effort of it. Then again, and again. 

The sound of scratching against the door and anxious barks weren’t enough to pull him out of his mind. Keith took a breath and slipped further into the water until his head went under. Despite the sting against the sensitive skin of his face, Keith opened his mouth and let out another shout, muted by the water. 

When he came up for air, Keith gasped and pushed his hair back, curling into a ball at one end of the tub. 

He hated this. He hated feeling small and weak and vulnerable. He hated that everything came crashing back when he’d been so certain he’d left that piece of shit behind. He’d been so certain he’d grown past it, that he wouldn’t look back anymore. 

Until he was right in front of him. How many times had he gone into the store looking for Keith? How many times had he watched Keith work? What made him think Keith would even consider talking to him after what he put him through? 

Keith pressed the balls of his palms against his eyes, pressing until he saw spots. Why had he stayed for as long as he had? He’d been smarter than that. He knew better. He knew that being with him hurt, that it felt wrong. So  _ why  _ had he stayed? Why had he been so stupid?

Now he was broken. He was broken and he could never be whole again. Things had been taken from him, and no matter how much Keith tried to reclaim himself, his current state was proof of the hold. He would always be that shattered teen, and nothing would fix it. Not time, not Lance. He’d been used and discarded, and his body couldn’t forget it. 

A pathetic keening sound slipped from Keith’s mouth. 

He didn’t want the reminders. He just wanted to feel  _ clean.  _

He moved haphazardly, splashing the water over the edge of the tub as he reached for his bath sponge. After coating it in body wash, Keith raked the mesh material against his skin vigorously, trying desperately to scrape away a layer of skin. 

Frantic, Keith scrubbed himself, muttering under his breath between wails that wouldn’t stay in his chest, getting angrier the longer he continued to feel dirty. 

For a moment, he had half a mind to use his own nails to tear away the grime he felt so vividly. 

Then he heard a knock on the door.

“Keith!” 

_ “No!”  _ he shouted. He couldn’t explain himself, he didn’t want anyone seeing him this way. “I’ll be fine! Just go!” 

“You’re not fucking fine!” Alexa shouted back. “Kosmo’s freaking out. What are you doing? What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” 

He heard a new voice. One that made his stomach drop. 

“Mi vida?” 

Keith pressed his hands to his ears. He was too disgusting for those words to be used on him. Another scream rumbled through his throat, muffled by the way his teeth gnashed together. 

“I’m gonna come in, okay?” Lance called. 

_ “Don’t!”  _ Keith shouted, instinctively throwing the nearest thing at the door. The shampoo bottle cluttered to the floor, the top bursting open as the bright orange liquid spilled onto the tile. “Just go,” Keith moaned. He couldn’t let Lance see him like this. Not this miserable, this pathetic, this revolting. 

“Keith, you’re scaring me. I need to come in to be sure you’re safe.” Before Keith could protest or throw something else, the door clicked open. Kosmo zipped in, barking loudly as he paced beside the tub, tail between his legs. Lance was frozen at the door of the bathroom. “Mi amor, what-?” 

Shame filled him to the brim, and he was positive Lance could see it pouring out of every pore. He curled into himself, turning his back to Lance as he did so. 

“Keith?” 

It wasn’t until arms tried to wrap around him that Keith reacted.

“Don’t  _ touch me!”  _ he shouted as he thrashed away, letting the water slosh onto the floor. 

Kosmo let out a deeper bark as if he wanted to scare away an intruder he couldn’t see. He let out a whine and pawed at the edge of the tub. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lance said quickly. He pulled a towel from the rack on the wall and held it out. “Come out of there, please, mi vida.” 

“I need to get clean.” Keith pressed the sponge to his neck, replacing the ghosting tongue with the painful back and forth scrubbing. “I’m dirty. I’m dirty and broken and you shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be looking at me.” His voice was scratchy, breaking on every other word, and it didn’t feel like his own. 

“What are you talking about?” Lance asked with a wavering voice. “Keith who-” There was a pause, but Keith couldn’t look away from the cloudy water to figure out why. “You aren’t dirty.” He scrubbed harder, grimacing at the words. “Keith, give me the sponge.” 

Keith let his hands fall to the water. The sponge floated and bobbed until Lance grabbed it and tossed it to the sink. Tears filled Keith’s eyes, spilling in warm streaks into the bathtub water. “I am. I can feel it. All of the memories.” He hugged himself, letting his nails dig into the flesh of his arms. “I can’t get  _ rid  _ of them,” he said through clenched teeth, raking his nails down like he could peel the skin off. Then, like some sort of unlocked urge, he kept doing it; his nails scraped against his chest, against his leg, his face. 

_ “Keith!”  _ Hands gripped his wrists, and even though he tried to thrash away, it didn’t deter their hold. As he shouted in protest, Lance only repeated a mantra of, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, mi vida, I’m so sorry.” 

“Let go! Let go of me!” Keith shrieked, screwing his eyes shut at the sound of Kosmo’s barks. 

“I can’t,” Lance whispered. He had his arms around Keith, one wrist in each hand as he kept him from moving. He’d managed to shift Keith closer to his side of the tub so it almost felt like an embrace. But it wasn’t. “I can’t let go of you right now. Not until I know you won’t keep hurting yourself.” 

“Lance? What’s going on?” 

“It’s fine, Alexa,” Lance called back, his voice breaking as he spoke. “Just give me a sec.” Keith felt himself start to shake in his arms, and Lance loosened his hold just a fraction. It still wasn’t enough to let Keith scramble away. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m not him, Keith. I won’t hurt you. You’re not dirty.” 

Keith sagged in Lance’s hold as sobs tore through him, racking his body. “I’m broken. I’ll never  _ not  _ be broken.” 

Slowly, Lance loosened his hold, satisfied when he saw that Keith had lost all of his energy. He just sat there, stewing in the murky, lukewarm water with sad patches of suds, soaking in his own filth. 

“Come on, let’s get you dried off,” Lance whispered. 

He stood up and grabbed a new towel from the cupboard. When Keith turned to look at him, he could see how drenched Lance’s clothes were. He should have felt guilty, but he was too tired to feel anything. He moved robotically, taking the towel and dragging the curtain back to dry himself off without being watched. Kosmo nosed his way around the curtain, whining as he seemed to stand guard for Keith. He drained the water from the tub and stepped out, only for Lance to drape another towel over his shoulders. 

Lance was careful about touching him. He walked beside him, an arm hovering around his shoulders as if he were ready to catch him at a moment’s notice. He dragged himself to his room, pulling on a sweater that was draped over a chair and a pair of boxers from his closet before wordlessly shuffling under the covers. 

He laid face-down, staring at a spot on the wall that started to get moving yellow splotches the longer he looked at it. 

The entire time, Lance didn’t speak at all. Eventually, Keith took a breath to speak, however scratchy and broken and hollow it sounded. “You’re a poet. You like finding beauty in broken things. But it’s not beautiful. I’m not…. You can’t take it away either. You can’t make it feel okay to be permanently fucked up. Can’t make it poetic.” 

A long, heavy sigh came from the corner of the bed. “I don’t find beauty in it,” he whispered. “Poetry helps me make sense of it. I  _ know  _ I can’t heal the broken parts, I know how it hurts to know that the broken parts always stay broken, but that doesn’t make you bad, Keith.  _ Everyone’s  _ broken. For some reasons or other. Everyone is broken in different ways, and that’s fine. I don’t love you for the beauty of your pain, I love you because you pull yourself up from it and didn’t let it hold you back. You told me once, though, that healing isn’t linear. And if… if you  _ saw  _ him…. Keith I promise you, you’re not dirty, you’re not weak, you’re not used. I don’t see you that way, okay?” 

The bed shifted and Keith clenched his teeth when Lance came into view in his peripheral. Although he didn’t look at him, Lance knelt down to the floor and rested his head on the mattress. “I know you don’t want me touching you right now. But you gotta know that I’m not him, mi vida. I won’t hurt you.  _ He  _ won’t hurt you ever again. You’ve got too many people on your side now. Me, Shiro, Alexa. Even Roland’s pacing around in the yard to know if you’re okay. Kosmo’s clearly ready to tear apart anyone who upsets you.” 

Keith knew he was trying to get him to laugh or smile, but he didn’t have it in him. Not with the way the unwanted memories made it so hard to breathe and had him feeling like centipedes were crawling all around his lungs. He wanted to puke. 

“You’re not alone anymore, amor. And you don’t have to go back there. You’re safe.” 

Keith stayed quiet, staring at the way the wall seemed to shift after staring so long. “His name is Dylan,” he whispered. Saying his name for the first time in years felt like tearing down a dam. Everything flooded out- the tears, the pain, the memories. “I was so stupid. I was so, so stupid,” he cried, shutting his eyes tight. 

“Keith, none of what happened is your fault-”

“Yes it is!” Keith shouted. He yanked himself upright, glaring at his own hands. “I didn’t listen to Shiro. I didn’t listen to myself. I let Dylan get away with so much because I was so goddamn desperate. I never said a fucking thing to anyone. I was old enough, I should’ve-”

“Keith,  _ stop.”  _ Lance’s voice was sharp. He stood up and started pacing. “Keith, you were a teenager. You’d been hopping from house to house, and he gained your trust. You felt alone, you were hurting, and you trusted and loved someone bad who used it against you. But that isn’t  _ your  _ fault. This fucking sucks, I know. It sucks to hurt and it sucks to hate the past, but….” Lance sat back down, reaching for his hands before pulling back. “It’s the past. We can’t change it. Right now, in this present, you’re with me. You’re safe. You’re loved the right way; the way you deserve to be.” 

“What does that matter if I can remember  _ everything?  _ Every fucking touch from a kiss to a punch? What does it matter if I… I see his face now. Every fucking blink, I see it. And I feel like he’ll pop up out of fucking nowhere….” He shook his head and laid back down, hugging half the pillow to his chest. “I’m so tired of hurting. So tired of the reminders. Every time I think I’m past it, I’m right back. He’s always gonna have a hold on me. He’s always gonna be in my head….”

“Mi am-” 

“Could you go?” Keith whispered. He turned over, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle the pain on Lance’s face at his words. “I just want to sleep.” 

“Yeah. Sure,” Lance said softly. The bed shifted again, and Keith felt a throw blanket he’d left folded on a chair fall over him lightly. There were soft footsteps, followed by the sound of the door. 

The moment it clicked shut, Keith felt himself collapse further. He turned facedown to muffle his screams into a pillow, letting out the agonized sound until his throat felt raw. The mattress dipped again and felt a warm, furry body plop next to him, followed by a wet nose at his ear.

He turned onto his side, and Kosmo immediately began to lick his face, whining anxiously as he pawed at his arm. 

“Hey buddy,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around Kosmo’s middle to tuck him against his chest. Surprisingly, Kosmo allowed it, and he laid with his paws and snout resting on Keith’s bicep. For a moment, he recalled how small Kosmo had been when he found him by the dumpster. How scared he’d been. 

Though sleep had been an excuse, Keith realized he was exhausted. His brain felt sluggish, his body felt sore, and more than anything he felt embarrassed. He couldn’t stand the idea of getting to see Alexa or Roland, much less Lance. He didn’t want to think about anything, and he definitely didn’t want to keep reliving the terror he’d felt at the bookstore. 

Keith buried his hand in Kosmo’s fur and focused on the feeling of petting him over and over again until the repeated motion had managed to lull him to sleep. 

By the time he woke up, it was dark outside. He somehow felt even more exhausted than before he’d slept, and the heaviness of his limbs weren’t helping. At some point he’d shifted to lay on his back and Kosmo had simply rested his head on his stomach as if he needed to know when Keith would get up. 

He stared up at the ceiling and wondered how he was supposed to face Alexa. He wondered how he was supposed to look at Lance without feeling ashamed and embarrassed and nervous. 

After everything they’d gone through, he hated the idea of all that comfort and transparency going away because of someone from his past who had no right tainting the good things he had now. Still, he couldn’t get that face out of his head. He imagined what he must have looked like in that bathtub, naked and hollow and frail, acting like a petulant child. He wondered if Alexa had ended up having to clean the mess he’d made. 

With a groan, Keith pulled a pillow over his head and sighed. On top of the grimy feeling on his skin and the weight that seemed to keep him from breathing properly or being able to sit up, he felt ashamed of himself, embarrassed with his reaction. 

He heard the door open slowly and froze. 

“Kosmo?” he heard Lance’s voice call. “Brought you some food, buddy.” The clink of metal bowls against the floor had Kosmo perking up and hopping off the bed. “Taking good care of him? That’s a good boy.” The door shut again, and all Keith could hear was Kosmo munching on his food. 

Keith rolled onto his side and stared at the corkboard on his wall. Pictures, pamphlets, poems written on napkins, dried flowers, movie stubs. It was all up there, documenting his time with Lance and Shiro and Alexa and the rest of his friends. A reminder that he was not the same fifteen year-old boy that he felt like again. Nothing was the same as it was then.

He wanted that information to be enough to erase his fear and pain. He wasn’t alone, and no one would lay a hand on him again, and Lance’s touch had always been so different, so loving. He was stronger and smarter and he knew better. 

But it didn't matter. It didn’t matter because the memories were apparently burned into his skin, and he hated that it had happened at all. He hated that he’d put himself in a place to be hurt that way, that he’d been so fucking stupid. He hated that Dylan had ever come into his life and destroyed him so entirely that the years didn’t make it go away- not entirely. And he hated that remembering still managed to feel so fresh, so prominent. It wasn’t like an old bruise he could ignore. It was like he’d reopened every wound, like he’d invited every painful moment back in at full force. 

He didn’t want to be broken. He didn’t want to live with being broken knowing that he could never fix it or change it or start over. 

There was a soft knock, but before Keith could decide whether he wanted to pretend to be asleep, it opened. “Keith?” Lance asked softly. “You awake?” 

Keith turned back over and followed Lance with his eyes as he moved to the side of the bed. 

“Hey. I brought you something to eat.” He put a fruit cup, a yogurt cup, and a Jell-O on the side table with a spoon. “Small stuff, because I don’t know your appetite right now. I could also tell Alexa to come in if you don’t want me in here for a while. I-” 

“I’m sorry.” That voice wasn’t his. It was scratchy and hoarse and broken and small. It wasn’t his voice. 

“For what?” When Keith failed to answer, Lance pointed to the edge of the bed. “Is it alright if I sit?” Keith narrowed his eyes and nodded. He didn’t want to be treated like he was fragile. Even if he was at the moment. “I’m here for the long haul, Keith. You gave me everything I needed when I was struggling. I want to do that for you too. I just don’t know what you need right now. I don’t know if you want me to stay and if that would help to remind you that things aren’t the same. I don’t know if you want me to give you space-” 

“I don’t know either,” Keith croaked. “I want you to be here and hold me but I also don’t want to be touched or looked at. God I feel so stupid for all of it. For what I did then, for what I did today.” 

“I thought you were a psych major,” Lance said. “You saw someone who hurt you in so many horrible ways. What were you supposed to do? Just smile and walk away like nothing had happened? Trauma like that….” Lance shook his head and sighed. “Today was a bad day. But you’re not stupid for feeling it. For reacting to it. For living it. It was rough and messy, but you got through it. We don’t have to know how to make it better right away, and I know I don’t have to take your hand and lead you through it. But I’m gonna be here if you do need me.” 

Keith took a breath and let his gaze drop to the pillow. “How’d you know? About what happened?” 

“Alexa told me what your boss said over the phone. Then you said that thing about trying to feel clean and... it clicked.” Lance slid his hand closer, fisting the comforter near Keith’s shoulder. “I hate what he did to you. But you have to know that you’re not to blame. You have to know that you’re not dirty and I have never,  _ ever  _ seen you as dirty. And yeah, maybe broken, maybe still hurting, and maybe this is one of those things that can’t go away no matter how long it’s been. But being broken doesn’t mean you’re worth any less. It doesn’t mean you’re not good enough. And you’re right- poets like to make being broken seem beautiful, even when it’s not. Sometimes it’s messy.” Lance lifted his hand slowly and let his fingers hover over the side of Keith’s face. “I do think you’re beautiful. Not your brokenness, but  _ you.  _ You are so beautiful and so strong, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re allowed to break and you’re allowed to need help and you’re allowed to hurt. I love you. You, with all of the light and dark parts, all the joy and pain, the fun and the struggle. I don’t care how ugly the brokenness is, I want to keep loving you.” 

Keith shook his head and placed his hand where Lance’s had been for a moment. “I hate how good you are with words.” He hesitated before sitting up, smiling at the way Lance pulled his hand back. He held his own out, palm up. “Can you give me your hand?” 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Lance slowly slid his hand into place. Keith clenched his jaw, reminding himself that this touch was different. This touch was kind and gentle and promising and giving. He waited until his hand was comfortable before pulling Lance’s hand up near his face. He hesitated for a moment before slowly pressing his cheek into Lance’s warm palm. He furrowed his eyebrows and shut his eyes. 

“Don’t force yourself-” 

“I’m not,” Keith assured. “I just want to….” He sighed and nuzzled into the warmth a bit.

This touch was reverent. From the day they’d met, Lance’s hands had worshipped him gently. His hands had always been patient. 

He was careful as he tugged the touch toward his neck. Keith grit his teeth and breathed carefully as he splayed the hand along the side of his neck, fingertips brushing his skin lightly. 

Lance’s touch had never hurt him. It had never been scary. These were hands that made art and wove words together in breathtaking ways. Hands he could trust. 

Slowly, he pulled himself closer to Lance until he could lean into his chest.

“Could you hold me?” 

Immediately, Lance’s arms were around him, reassuring and comforting, but light so they didn’t make Keith feel trapped. One hand rubbed his back soothingly as the other wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close. 

These hands were cleansing. 

\--

It wasn’t until well past noon that Keith let himself leave his room to actually sit in the living room. Lance had offered to make him a sandwich, so he sat down in the living room and stared at the television where he could see his own reflection.

The door opened and Alexa walked in, carrying a canvas bag in each hand and tilting her head to keep her phone between her ear and shoulder as she kicked the door shut. “I’ll call you back in a bit, I just got home. Yeah, that’s cool. Bye.” She tossed the bags onto the unoccupied couch and looked at Keith. 

There was no pity in her gaze. She looked at him analytically, a bit of worry in the way she chewed the inside of her lip. “Your boss called. She said you didn’t have to worry about going back there if you didn’t want to. She said you could take the week to decide if you wanted to keep working there or not.” 

Keith nodded and ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. “Um, sorry. For all of yesterday. And the mess in the bathroom-” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse,” she said. “Trust me. I’m pretty sure I’ve been worse myself. You need anything from me?” Keith shook his head. “Okay. Just let me know. And seriously, don’t sweat it. I’d rather clear up a bunch of water that piss and vomit, so….” She scrunched her mouth off to one side before she sighed and sat beside him. She reached out to put her hand on his arm, but Keith flinched back and she let her hand fall. “Keith, what- okay this is a dumb question but... are you okay?” 

Keith nearly responded that he was fine, but he caught his reflection again. He still looked so small. He still felt like he was only keeping himself together by a thin strand. He could barely handle Lance hugging him for a few minutes at a time. He looked back at Alexa and shook his head. “No.” 

Alexa nodded and offered a sad smile. “It’s something you gotta ride out, huh?” Keith nodded and she hummed. “Take your time.” She stood back up to grab her stuff and head to her room just as Lance placed the sandwich on the coffee table. 

Lance took her spot and turned on the TV, flipping through channels until he landed on a familiar sitcom. 

It took way too long to finish the sandwich. Once he did, he laid his head on Lance’s shoulder. He waited a moment longer before asking, “Would it make me a coward if I didn’t go back?” 

“No,” Lance answered immediately. “If you don’t feel comfortable or safe there, you shouldn’t go back. You don’t have to prove anything.” 

Keith didn’t respond. He just sighed and closed his eyes. 

As the episode played, his phone rang. Shiro’s name came up on the screen. Keith stared until the call disappeared and a message followed shortly after. 

_ Hey are you and Lance still coming for dinner tomorrow?  _

“Are you gonna tell him?” 

“I didn’t want to, but…. I really wanna see him,” Keith whispered. 

“I could drive you to go see him, if you want?”

Keith hesitated before typing back a text asking if it was alright for him to drop by for a bit. 

_ Yea I’m actually about ten minutes out from my place, I just left work. You ok? _

The drive to Shiro’s house was about fifteen minutes. He looked over at Lance and nodded. “Could we go now?” 

Lance stood up and grabbed his keys from the counter. Keith followed him and went to the passenger side of Lance’s car. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to Shiro, but he knew that he wanted to see him. Shiro had tried so hard to be a shield for him when he was young, and Keith had taken it for granted. Maybe he would figure it out when he saw him. 

As the car drove down the street, the sound of the doors locking made Keith gasp and flinch. He felt panic settle in his chest, tightening viciously around his lungs. 

“Keith, mi amor, the doors auto-lock. It’s okay.” 

Wordlessly, Keith put his head in his hands. He was  _ not  _ there anymore. That was the past. It was over. 

It took another few minutes before Keith could get himself to relax. Lance kept his arm over the center console, palm up as he waited for Keith’s hand out of habit. After a moment of deliberation, Keith hooked his pinky and ring finger around Lance’s index finger. 

It was quiet except for the soft melodies of the songs blurring together as they played on the radio and the hum of the car speeding over the freeway. Once they got to Shiro’s place, Keith turned to Lance. “I can call for you to get me. I don’t know how long I’ll be here or… what I’m gonna say.” 

“I brought my journal, I can wait in the car,” Lance said. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” 

Keith nodded and left the car, walking to the door with awkward, jagged movements. He knocked and Shiro opened the door within a handful of seconds. His wide smile dropped at the sight of Keith. 

“Keith, what happened?” 

The scar cutting across Shiro’s nose had a knot forming in his throat. A memory of Shiro’s bloody face full of rage flashed behind his eyes. He remembered the way Shiro had kept one arm out, keeping Keith back whenever he could. Keith had been so angry then. He thought Shiro had ruined things for him, he thought Shiro had ruined his life. 

But he’d been protecting him, just like he had since he stepped foot in the Shirogane household. And the proof of Keith’s stupidity, and the things that resulted from his selfishness now stared back at him. Shiro had to stare at that scar in every photo, every reflection, and it was all Keith’s fault. 

Before he could even process it, Shiro had pulled him inside and sat him down in a dining room chair because it was the closest thing to him. “Keith? What’s wrong, what happened?” he asked frantically. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Taka, I’m so sorry,” Keith sobbed as he hugged himself. “All you ever wanted to do was protect me and-” 

“Keith, what are you talking about? Sorry for what? What happened?” His hand touched one of his arms. “What are- who did this to you?” 

Keith wiped his eyes to clear his vision and looked down at whatever had gotten Shiro’s attention. There was a series of angry red scratches on his arm. “I did,” he said softly. He took a deep breath and put his head in his hands as Shiro stayed kneeling in front of him. “I was at work yesterday and I saw… I saw Dylan.” He heard Shiro’s breathing stop. “He came up to me and… and he talked to me, but I didn’t know who he was. And then-” Keith felt his voice break further. “He called me  _ angel  _ and it all came flooding back. All of it. I can’t remember… I can’t remember what I did or what I said, I just know I freaked out in the bathroom, and Lance can barely touch me right now because I panic, and I can’t go back to the bookstore. And I keep thinking about how hard you tried to keep it all from happening and I ignored it, I just fell right into his hands because I was so stupid, and-”

“No, _ no,  _ Keith, listen to me. You were fifteen. Everyone thinks they know everything at fifteen, and everyone feels grown up, but none of that is a reason to blame yourself. You never deserved the things that happened to you. Hell, I was still a stupid kid too, okay? I should’ve known better, I should’ve told our parents what was happening. I tried to protect you, but I shouldn’t have taken that on by myself.” He put his hands on Keith’s shoulders lightly. “You are not to blame, okay?  _ He  _ hurt you. He chose to hurt you. This is his fault, not yours.” Shiro frowned. “He really tried to talk to you?” 

“He wanted to talk or something, go to coffee? I can’t-” Keith pressed a hand to his head. 

“Okay, it’s okay. Are you okay to be at home?” 

Keith sighed and nodded. “Lance and Alexa have been with me. Kosmo too.” He wiped his eyes again and lifted his gaze to meet Shiro’s. “You’ve always been a good brother to me, Taka. It took forever for me to see it, but….” 

Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith gently, the embrace encasing but thankfully not overwhelming. 

“I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me,” Keith whispered brokenly. 

“Oh, that?” Shiro said with a scoff to cover the way his words cracked. “Makes me look cool. I still remember the look of terror on Lance’s face when he first saw me.” Keith let out a sniffling laugh that quickly turned into more tears. “I’ve got you, Hippo.” 

Keith finally unhooked his arms from around himself and hugged his brother tightly. Shiro didn’t know everything, not in detail. Some things were left unspoken, pieced together by context clues, and others were only known because of what the vague term “abusive relationship” usually entailed. Over time, Keith had alluded loosely to past events, always with a blase manner that always unsettled Shiro for a moment. Even without knowing everything, Shiro knew enough.

Shiro pulled back and furrowed his eyebrows. “Would you want to see someone? A professional, I mean.” 

“What-?” Keith’s first instinct was to say he didn’t need a professional. He was supposed to become one, why would he need one? He wanted to point out that many people had it worse, and this was just a bad couple of days. But he knew better. He had no idea how he was supposed to shake the feeling of being dirty or the fear screaming in the back of his head to look over his shoulder all the time. He had no idea how long it would take. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can afford it right now-” 

“You know Mom and Dad would help.” 

“I don’t want to tell them,” he whispered. “Not this long after. Why worry them?” 

“Think about it. If you don’t want to ask Mom and Dad, then Adam and I can help you out. Maybe it’s not forever, but it could help?” 

Keith chewed his lip. He wasn’t sure he could tell a stranger all the memories plaguing his head, relive them all because he needed to find a way to be functional in spite of them. “I’ll think about it. See how long I feel… like this.” 

“Okay.” It was quiet for a while until Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You gotta say it. Say it wasn’t your fault.” 

Even though it felt like a lie, Keith whispered, “It wasn’t my fault.” 

“Again.” 

“It wasn’t my fault.” 

“Louder.” 

“It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.  _ It wasn’t my fault.  _ It wasn’t- It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.” The mantra quickly brought his tears back, but this time they were a relief. Because he was starting to believe it. He hadn’t woken up and decided he wanted to be hurt and tossed around and manipulated and lied to. He’d loved someone who didn’t love him. He’d loved someone who was selfish and temperamental. That love had kept him there, kept him trying, long after he had become nothing more than an object in the eyes of that person who had promised Keith the world. He’d loved someone who hadn’t deserved his love, but that didn’t mean he deserved the things that had happened to him. It wasn’t his fault that they happened to him. “It wasn’t my fault.” 

“No it wasn’t,” Shiro confirmed. “And you’ve got so many people who love you, Hippo. People whose love you’ve accepted too. Me, Mom, Dad, Lance, the entirety of Lance’s family, Adam, Alexa, Lance’s friends, hell, even Roland.” He ruffled Keith’s hair lightly. “You’re not alone. You know what good love is now. How it builds you up instead of tearing you down. And we’re not gonna go away.” 

Keith nodded and put a hand to his head to push away the headache that began to creep up on him after so much crying. “I should go home. I’m exhausted. I just… I wanted to see you to tell you thank you for being a good brother even when I hated you. And to say sorry for… everything.” 

Shiro stood up and pulled Keith into another embrace. “I love you, Hippo. If you need  _ anything,  _ tell me.” 

“I will,” he promised. “I love you too.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” 

“Lance is in the driveway actually. He drove me.” Keith walked to the door with Shiro just behind him. “Might need to raincheck on dinner.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let me know when you get home.” 

Keith nodded and walked to the car where Lance was chewing on the end of a pen, staring at his journal so hard that he hadn’t realized Keith was there until he tapped the window. 

When they got home, Keith sat outside in a lawn chair, throwing one of Kosmo’s for him to fetch over and over. Lance was in the lawn chair beside him still fussing over his journal. 

He was grateful for the way that Lance stayed with him while allowing the silence. The way he gave him space without leaving him alone. A reminder that he had someone who would stay at his side through even the worst of things. He especially appreciated that it didn’t feel like Lance was babysitting him- just keeping him company. 

Later that night, Keith laid on his side, watching Lance scroll through his phone for a while. 

“Hey, Lance?” 

“Hm?” Lance looked over then turned on his side to give Keith his attention. “What is it, mi vida?” 

“I love you.” 

Lance grinned. “Te amo.” He arched an eyebrow. “Permission to kiss your nose?” 

Keith huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah.” Lance leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose quickly before pulling back and smiling at him. “Night, Lance.” 

“Goodnight, Keith.” 

He shut his eyes, letting his hand reach over to where Lance’s rested on the pillow. 


End file.
